Living Conditions : The Fundamental Difference
by Acepilot6
Summary: No.18 in the Road series. A doubleA sided fanfic two couples discover some of the perks and pitfalls of living together...TL, CA. Please r


**Living Conditions/The Fundamental Difference  
**Acepilot

AN - No.18 in the "Road" series. Two vingettes too short to rate as independent stories, so I kind of threw them together and made it into one story, and it's still damn short. It's a double-A sided fanfic, if you will. Mostly inspired by the fact that I've just moved, and these are three pieces about living with someone new. I hope they're good - to me, they're a bit of light relief. And they're also the first stuff I've written since I moved. Yay!

Dedicated to - Americanpride911 - for the fun and for letting be a mod, and Chuckangie - for the pictures, and the advice.

Disclaimer - The cast of AGU, I own not.

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**Living Conditions (a T/L vingette)**

It started so subtly, that I almost didn't notice. It was just a few little things, really. Here and there. A coffee mug found its way into my cupboard. A green mug with a white trim. I knew it wasn't mine, and I knew who's it actually was. It didn't bother me - I found it cute. Domestic, even. And so when she stayed the night, I'd just pull her mug down from my cupboard and put it on the bench, and make her coffee next to mine.

A razor with a pink handle found its way into my bathroom. I took this magnificent opportunity to observe further the differences provided by the female of the species, and found them to be fascinating, to say the least. The damn thing is impossible to use - I almost slashed my face to ribbons - but she somehow manages it fine. On her legs, no less. Women amaze me.

And while we're on the subject of my bathroom, I was a little startled to one day discover a toothbrush sitting next to mine. A yellow-handled toothbrush, slightly used. Where it had come from, I could only guess. But I could guess with some sort of certainty.

But it's the underwear that have truly thrown me.

It's one thing to see your girlfriend's underwear in the heat of a rather interesting moment. But it's entirely another to find them next to your boxers in the dresser drawer.

I lift them up tentatively with one finger.

They're pink. Huh. I never would have picked it. And I'd somehow never noticed before.

How do people fit into things this small? Women or not, that's still gotta be tight...and don't get me started on bras...

"What are you doing?"

I leap half a foot in the air and drop the underwear into the drawer, slamming it shut behind me as I spin around to face her. "Nothing." I realise belatedly that I've got my best look of innocence on my face, and I wipe it off - but not in time to stop her from seeing it.

She grins at me, dropping her backpack on the floor. "Were you looking at my underwear?"

How the hell do you answer that? "Uh...yeah?"

She chuckles and walks over to kiss me on the cheek. "Well, that's nothing new."

"It's a bit different when they're in my drawer," I point out.

"Is it? Why?"

"Because...well..."

"Well?" She makes 'go-on' gestures with her hand.

"Well...it's like we're...living together."

She frowns. "Oh."

I realize quickly that my relationship might have just sailed into dangerous territory. The sirens are beckoning. "No, no. Nothing like that. It's not that I don't want to live with you." The lighthouse bulb suddenly comes to life -

"Then what is it?" - and burns out again, making a dismal fizzling noise.

"Well...I guess...it's just that everything kind of happened suddenly. It's just the doing it in bits-and-pieces...seems...weird." Where the hell am I getting this all from? "Do you want to live here?"

The lighthouse owner has found a new set of bulbs. The ocean is lit up. "Yes, please."

I have to catch her as she seems to fly across the room into my arms. I let out a quite "hoof" of air as she giggles hysterically in my ear.

Some things never change.

But some things do. We're living together now. This is going to take some getting used to.

And I might have to clear out one of my drawers...

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**The Fundamental Difference (a C/A vingette)**

The moment I hear the cry of "Augh!", I know I've done something wrong. She has a different scream for everything, I've discovered - a high-pitched one for when she's frustrated with her job, a long, sustained one that comes about whenever she tries to study, and a really shrill one for discovering that we're out of coffee.

But the one I know and fear most of all is "Augh". Because it's essentially shorthand for "I'm going to kill Chuckie Finster!", and it is therefore something my mind has become attuned to.

I wonder if there's time to run, but I know that it would be futile. I wouldn't get halfway to the door before she stopped me. We need a bigger apartment.

So I pretend to be intensely studying the newspaper when she storms into the lounge room with a towel in her hair, dressing gown on her body, and murder in her eyes.

"Come with me, Finster!"

I'm grabbed by the wrist and yanked from my chair - I'm bigger, but she's definitely still stronger. I protest, but only weakly. Resistance is useless...I drop the paper on the table as I am dragged past it, into the bathroom.

She drops my wrist and slams the door behind me. She points to the toilet. "Look at that!"

I raise an eyebrow and do as I'm told - I'm smart like that - and turn to look at the toilet. I look it up and down critically.

I turn to her and shrug.

She sighs in defeat and glares at me. "What's wrong with it?"

My eyes widen. "There's something wrong with it? What? Can Phil fix it? We can't afford a plumber!"

The first I know of her decision to hit me over the head is about five seconds after her hand clears my skull. "Ow! Angelica, what was that for?"

"Look at the toilet roll."

I do so. It's empty.

I turn and shrug again.

"You didn't change it!" she screams, the towel on her hair coming loose from the vibrations of her body, which is quite literally trembling with anger. I'm now in fear for my life, and my instincts are telling me that changing the paper would be a good idea. I grab some from the roll-stand and swap it for the empty cardboard tube promptly. I turn to her and smile, but it's tentative.

"And put the seat down."

I do as I'm told. I'm smart like that.

"I love you," I offer lamely.

She shakes her head at me. "You're going to drive me insane, Finster."

Funny. I thought it would be the other way around.

I lean in nervously and peck her on the cheek. "But you love me for it."

She raises an eyebrow at me. "Don't be so sure." But there's a smirk beneath it.

I kiss her properly this time, my confidence building as she pulls the towel off her hair. "Are you sure you're done in the shower?" I ask, quite gamely, I might add.

"Of course I'm done in the shower, whaddya think I am..."

5. 4. 3. 2. 1.

"On second thought, I might have missed a few spots..."

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please r&r.


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